Date: Tue, 8 May 2007 18:51:33 -0700 (PDT)
From: wetswimboy2000@yahoo.ca
Subject: MY SWIMMING LESSONS

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MY SWIMMING LESSONS
by Derrick Hammond and Michael Smith


      He handed me a shopping bag over his giant
mahogany desk, behind which he sat, working. I was
twelve years old at the time, a tall skinny boy. He
told me that the bag was for my new swimming lessons,
which he felt I needed, even though I was quite a good
swimmer. But my father, being one of the best lawyers
in the country, felt I could improve. But I admired
him for this; for this drive to always be better, and
to never make me feel like I was inadequate, but only
that I could improve. So I took the bag and opened it
in my bedroom, and pulled out a pair of navy blue
Speedos. I had never worn Speedos before, and as I
held them up to myself in the mirror, I was curious
about how I would look in them, though I knew it would
have to wait until the next day. My father, if he
happened to come up to my room, would frown on me
wearing almost no clothes. Even though it was only him
and myself in the apartment, I always had to be fully
dressed. I reluctantly packed them away and got ready
for bed.

      Early the following morning, just as I was about
to leave, I suddenly felt embarrassed about the
Speedos in my bag, and I quickly swapped them for
trunks. It was an early summer morning, so it was a
nice walk over. The sun was coming out nicely, and I
could tell that it would be a good day for swimming.
Coach Jones, who asked me to call him David, answered
the door with a gentle smile, and gracefully asked me
into his home. He showed me the pool and the changing
room, and I met him a few minutes later at the pool,
both of us wearing trunks, though he had on a t-shirt
as well.

      He was staring at me, and I suddenly felt naked,
as I was a boy used to always having on clothes. I saw
myself naked only briefly every day, when I changed
clothes, and I was certainly not used to being alone
with another person, wearing almost no clothes. I was
very relieved, at that moment, that I was wearing
trunks.

      "Didn't your dad send you with Speedos?" David
asked.

      "Umm, well, he did," I answered, "but I sort of
forgot them."

      "Well trunks slow you down. Don't forget them
next week, otherwise I may have to make you swim
naked." Those words of his made me suddenly stop and
think about what would happen if I were to forget them
the following week. The thought of swimming naked
suddenly appealed to me, though I knew I would be
mortified if I had to wear even fewer clothes in front
of this man, who at the time was a complete stranger.

      We stood together on the side of the pool,
facing each other, while he led me in some stretching
exercises, and when we were done, told me that we
stretched every muscle in our bodies, which would help
immensely. When that was over, I was finally able to
swim. It was wonderful diving into the warm water. I
swam a lap, and then David gave me some pointers, and
I swam again, each time trying to improve. We did this
for a long time, and when it was over, he told me that
he would be doing some different exercises with me the
following week, and that I would be less bored and
learn more.

      He climbed out of the pool first, and then
offered me his hand, which I took, and he helped to
pull me out. Of course I did not need the assistance,
but it was a courtesy I appreciated, as it made me
feel much more comfortable with him. He put his hand
on my back and walked me towards the changing rooms,
telling me that I did very well. There was something
strange about the way I felt when he touched my bare
skin; I did not want him to let go. I wanted David to
continue holding my back, to support me, to tell me
that I did well. But I ended up in the changing room
alone, which I was partly grateful for.

      I experienced, that night, one of the rare
occasions at home that I did not have any pants on. I
was bent over my father's knee, and I felt his hand
crashing down on my bare bottom for not wearing the
Speedos. David had called to tell my father, not so
that I would be punished, but so that I would not
forget them the following week. As I went to bed that
night, I closed my eyes and thought of David's touch
on my back, and not my father's. David's was
memorable; something different. My father gave me an
everyday touch, a spanking or a hug, maybe a pat on
the back. This was special in its own way, but I could
not figure out what the difference was with that, and
with how I felt when David touched my back.

      At my next swimming lesson, I emerged shyly, not
used to having a piece of clothing hugging my body. I
felt even more naked standing in front of David,
methodically stretching naked parts of my body, than I
had when I was wearing my trunks. But at the same
time, I was enjoying the freedom of bare skin and the
warmth of the sun. Back at the house then, late at
night, I would not even pull my pants down to play
with myself.

      I was really anticipating my next swimming
lesson. I found myself in the pool, my stomach lying
on David's hand, while I stroked, and David tried to
teach me how to do it perfectly. I wanted to continue
this as long as possible, and was disappointed when he
sent me off to swim on my own, his touch disappearing.
He complimented me again on my progress after the
lesson. This time he walked me over with his arm
across my back, his hand holding my shoulder, and I
slowed my walk, to make it last.

      More than anything the following week, I wanted
the end of the lesson to come, so that I could feel
his encouraging hand on my back. I almost ran to his
house, and did not even bother to close the door of
the poolhouse as I changed. Once I had pulled on my
Speedos, I felt a little bit silly for this, but David
did not see me anyway, as he arrived at the pool when
I did.

      This time, during the warm up exercises, David
too put away some of his inhibitions, and stood before
me without a shirt on. I could not help but stare at
his muscles, thinking that someday I would be as big
as him, and suddenly feeling like a miniscule little
boy. How could I live up to David's expectations of
me? I thought, suddenly, that I may not feel his warm
hand on my back later on.

      After our stretch, I was ready to get into the
pool, but David instead took me towards the house, and
he himself sat down against the bricks, and put me
over his lap, the way my father would do when he was
about to give me a spanking. But this was not David's
purpose. He wanted me to show him my kicks, the way I
moved my legs in the water. I did it for him, and he
squeezed one of my thighs.

      "You'll have to do a better job of stretching,"
David said to me, as he began to massage my thigh. I
showed him my kicks again, this time feeling that I
was doing a much better job with the leg he had just
massaged. But what I could also feel was my penis
becoming hard as it was pressed against David's leg. I
turned suddenly red, embarrassed, and I began to wish
that I was anywhere else. But David, in his
wonderfully calming voice, said that we could get into
the pool.

      He asked me to do a number of laps, but halfway
through he stopped me, and pulled me out of the pool.
He stood there in front of me, staring at me, as if he
were sizing me up, looking for something.

      "You're an excellent swimmer," he said
thoughtfully, "but there's something holding you back.
I can't figure out what it is." He continued to stare
at me, and I did not know what to say. I was
embarrassed, as I was not used to being around other
people in such a state of undress. And then David
pointed at me, suddenly. "I think that your Speedos
are too tight," he said. "Did you by any chance keep
those trunks in your bag?" I shook my head. "Hmm.
Listen Christopher. I don't want you to be
embarrassed, but I'm going to have you do a few laps
without your Speedos, just to see if you improve."

      I stood there, absolutely frozen to the spot. I
wanted to do whatever David wanted of me, and
furthermore, if I had to be naked around someone, I
would have preferred that it be him. But I stood
frozen, not knowing what to do, even though he had
made it perfectly clear.

      "If you prefer," he said, "you can take them off
inside the pool. Otherwise, just go back to the change
room and put them in your bag." My mind was racing; I
did not know which option was better. I remember
suddenly nodding, and scurrying off to the changing
room. I removed my Speedos, and was about to walk out
bravely, when I remembered the stack of towels that
were always there. I wrapped one around my waist, and
then went back to the pool.

      David smiled at me, indulgingly, because of the
unnecessary towel. I walked up to the pool. I
hesitated for a moment, but knew that sooner or later
I would have to do it. So I dropped it, and climbed
into the water as fast as I could. David climbed in
after me, and then told me to start my laps.

      I was grateful, when we were finished, that he
followed me out of the pool. It meant that he would
only see me from the back, and I very quickly had
myself covered again with a towel once I was out of
the water. I began to walk, slowly, towards the
changing room, and then I felt his hand on my back.

      "You did much better without the Speedos. I
think that you should get a slightly larger size for
next week."

      I did exactly this, and as usual, I met David by
the pool after having changed.

      "How do the new Speedos feel?" he asked me after
we had finished the warm up.

      "They feel okay, I think they're a better size."
He walked up to me, and placed two fingers inside them
at the back, and then brought them around, across my
waist, to my front. He barely grazed the base of my
penis with his fingers, but it got me excited.

      "Yes, they do feel better," David said. "Now
lets see how you do with them." He removed his
fingers, and gave me a hard slap on my backside. It
was meant to be a playful slap, but being a small boy,
and him just the opposite, it hurt. But also, I was
not expecting it, and so I stumbled forwards. He must
have seen this happen, because he grabbed my Speedos
from the back to keep me from falling, but I did so
anyway, feeling them being pulled down my legs. The
fall did not hurt very much, but at the end, I was
naked, and I could feel the warm sun in between my
legs. I looked up at David, absolutely mortified, but
when I saw his face, I could not help but start
laughing.

      He knelt over me and apologized, saying he did
not mean to hit me so hard, that it was supposed to be
only a little joke, even though David was laughing
himself. My speedos were still around my ankles. "Is
there anything I can do to make it up to you?" he
asked me.

      "Well, you saw mine," I said. This is a line I
had heard many other boys my age use on each other. At
that age, we were all curious, not just about our own
bodies, but also about everybody else's. I rarely
participated in these boyhood rituals because of my
father's strictness about nakedness, but I listened
with lots of attention when stories of boyhood
experimentation were told.

      I did not really expect David to comply with
this only half serious request, but David offered me
his hand, pulled me up, and when I was standing in
front of him, he pulled down his trunks, revealing a
man's body, pubic hair and all, to skinny little
Christopher. I did not know what to do next. I stared,
and I felt myself becoming hard. And then I was
confused, because David's penis was doing the same
thing as mine. I understood, a little bit, of what was
happening to me. I was in the presence of a grown man,
who had a nice, muscular body. But I could not
understand what business he had becoming hard staring
at a skinny twelve year old boy, with no hair on his
body and a penis that was barely noticeable even when
it was sticking out straight.

      But it did not matter that I did not know what
to do next. David took a few steps closer to me,
firmly grabbed my hand, and placed it on his now
hardened penis.

      "Don't be scared," he said. As soon as those
words came out of his mouth, I no longer was scared.
There was such a large difference putting my hand
around a fully grown penis, as opposed to my own. I
was mesmerized by it, and luckily, because he said so,
I was not scared. And then David pulled me towards
him, hugging me in a playful but loving manner like I
had never been hugged before. An involuntary chill
went up my spine as my hand still held his erect
penis. I felt his hand move down my back, and then
onto my backside, where it remained for a moment,
squeezed, and then let go. It was awkward for me to
continue holding his erection during this, but I did
not know what he wanted me to do with it. But then,
with David's lead, we separated, and sat down together
beside the pool, dipping our feet in the water.

      "You know Christopher," he said, "there isn't
much more I can teach you about swimming at this
point. Your body will have to mature a bit more before
you can have a noticeable increase in speed. But aside
from that, you've been doing really well. Your dad has
paid me for one more lesson though, next week, so come
over, we'll do some practice, and then we'll see what
to do with the rest of the time."

      What David was really saying to me flashed
through my mind in a moment. I realized that nothing
more was going to happen that day, that I was being
sent home, and that next week was the last time I
would ever see him.

      "But I don't want my lessons to end yet!" I said
suddenly when I realized that it was ending.

      "I know you don't. I would keep you here as long
as I could as well. But you don't need me anymore.
You're swimming better, and you've gotten over another
little problem of yours as well."

      "What problem is that?"

      "Shyness. You're sitting here, right beside me,
completely naked. You've never done that before, not
with anybody else there. I know your father; I know
his rules."

      "Well I like you, and you make me comfortable
around you, and you're naked too," I replied, as if
justifying it would change the inevidtability of
everything ending. But David, at that moment, gently
reminded me that I would be returning the following
week, and asked me to go and change.

      When our final meeting came, I was disappointed
when he actually asked me to climb into the pool and
swim a few laps, mentioning something about the fact
that my father paid for swimming lessons. My heart
began to beat faster, not because of the swimming but
because he asked me to come out of the pool. I pushed
myself out and stood before him, water dripping down
my body. I could not see any details on David's body,
because the sun was in my eyes. But he pulled down his
trunks, and told me to do the same.

      David bent down a little bit and squeezed my
penis, which at that moment was still soft. He began
to massage it, until I had an erection.

      "Are you alright with doing this for me?" David
asked. "Because if you're not, we can stop right now.
I won't be upset." I stood still for a moment, frozen,
with everything and nothing rushing through my mind. I
had no idea what exactly it was that I would be doing
for him, but I did not want this to end. Up until
those weeks, the scope of my sexual experience was
limited to quietly and quickly masturbating under my
covers. So whatever it was that I was agreeing to, I
did so with vigor.

      David asked me to lie down, right there on the
ground, outside, beside the pool. I did so, and I felt
the warm ground on my back. "On your stomach," he said
to me once I had gotten comfortable. I turned over,
and realized that the ground was hotter than I had
previously thought. David wasted no time. I felt his
hands spreading apart my legs, and then reach under me
to fondle me some more. The ground was becoming hotter
underneath me, and I began to wonder what he was going
to do next. Within moments I felt it. His hardness
inside me. It hurt, but at the same time, I was
enjoying it. The feeling of being naked, of being
touched, of giving someone else pleasure that I knew
would be returned to me.

      He began to go harder, but at the same time I
could feel him being careful to not hurt me too much.
I could hear him breathing and smell the chlorine from
the pool as I tried to remain as still as possible for
his pleasure. And then I felt more wetness, and it was
over.

      David turned me over, and began to fondle me
once again. This time though, he did not stop, but
continued to stroke me until I was finished too,
though there was no wetness, only a feeling of
pleasure that I could never have achieved on my own.

      It took me a few years to understand why David
could never see me again after that day. The
obviousness of this baffled me at the time but now
makes sense. But even so, he made sure that day that I
left on a positive note. He held me, and told me how
wonderful I was. He thanked me for giving him such
pleasure, and then he took me out for pizza, where all
was forgotten and he was just a swim coach, and I just
a pupil.

      He made sure that I was clear on the fact that
we could never see each other again, and then sent me
home. Two weeks later, however, I received a letter by
post, containing a single, blank piece of paper with
an outline of his hand, expertly shaded to look real.
`My hand is always on your back,' was written
underneath. So he did know how nice it made me feel
when after the lessons he would have his comforting
hand on me and tell me what a great job I did.

      That night, after I was sure my father was
asleep, I thought about being naked in front of David
and his willingness to have me touch his most private
parts. But most of all I enjoyed the erection that
came with these thoughts, and I stripped, even pulling
off the covers. I spread my legs and placed my hand in
between them. And most of all, I savoured the new and
unexpected things my swimming lessons had brought into
my life.